


Plaiting

by sapphire_child



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-16
Updated: 2005-10-16
Packaged: 2018-12-31 21:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12141480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: Claire teaches Charlie how to plait.





	Plaiting

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155122168@N03/36502160064/in/album-72157686884668124/)

Day was the time for husking coconuts. Day was the time for picking fruit. Day was work time.

Night however was the time for relaxation. Night was the time for quiet conversations around the fire. Night was the time when Charlie got out his guitar and played for anyone who cared enough to listen. It’s all right to play at night even though it’s dark, Charlie knows where the frets are instinctively; he doesn’t need to look at them anymore.

Claire is kneeling next to Aaron’s crib, checking to make sure he is well and truly asleep, and has pulled her long hair to the nape of her neck, dividing it up evenly. The firelight illuminating her golden hair coupled with the sky coloured top she’s wearing and the way she is bent over Aaron, her face soft with tender motherly concern reminds Charlie of pictures he’s seen of the Virgin Mary. His eyes flicker slightly as his brain reminds him of his own personal Virgin Mary, still intact in his bag but then Claire began to plait her hair and he forgets to think about his drugs.

He’s liked her hair since he first met her; has always liked girls with long hair in fact. He likes playing with it although he never did learn how to plait, deeming it an impractical skill. Now he wishes that he could.

Claire, feeling his eyes on her turns to raise an eyebrow at him.

‘Having a good perve there?’ she teases. ‘What are you looking at?’

‘Your hair,’ Charlie blurts out the first thing that comes to mind and he feels his ears begin to glow like a pair of Christmas lights. _You sodding **idiot.**_ ‘I mean…’ Charlie tries to rephrase what he’s just said. ‘I just…I never learnt to plait and you make it look so easy...’ he trails off feeling like the worlds biggest fool but Claire doesn’t seem at all offended, instead she pauses for a moment, considering him before pushing herself to her feet, undoing her hair as she walks towards him. She’d been complaining of its oiliness for a few days before she finally got the chance to wash it, Aaron always took up so much of her time.

‘Do you want to learn?’ she holds out the damp coil of her hair and Charlie gapes at her for a moment before nodding mutely. Claire settles herself on the floor immediately, her shoulders between his knees, and Charlie lays his guitar gently aside.

‘You separate the hair into three even sections,’ Claire demonstrates as she talks him through it. ‘Then you take one of the outside strands and put it into the middle and then the next, and the next, and the next.’ Within a few moments she has half a plait and Charlie is staring at her nimble fingers, completely engrossed. ‘Here, you try.’ Claire undoes the plait again and Charlie tentatively begins to divide it, frowning self-righteously at her hair. His middle section is much bigger than the other two and Claire said _even_ sections...

‘Outside one to the middle...’ Claire prompts and Charlie hurriedly follows her instructions. Be damned if they’re different widths, he thinks and his hands fumble through her hair as he tries to plait it. Instead, he ends up turning it into a huge golden spiral.

‘O-kay,’ he says slowly. ‘I don’t think I’ve got it quite right…’

Claire reaches back to feel his handiwork and laughs.

‘No I don’t think so either.’ She takes her hair back and unravels it. ‘Try again.’

This time he gets the right movement going on but keeps forgetting which strand should go where and undoing what he’s just done. Charlie lets out a vehement string of swear words and Claire reaches awkwardly back to pat his knee. ‘It might take a while,’ she says encouragingly. ‘It took me ages to learn how to plait.’

It takes almost an hour before Charlie manages to create something that vaguely resembles a braid and even then half her hair is falling out.

‘Thanks,’ Claire fastens the end of it with her hair elastic and turns to drop a quick kiss on his cheek when she stands up.

‘It’s not very good,’ Charlie mumbles, embarrassed. ‘You can re-do it if you want, I don’t mind…’

‘I’m not going to take it out Charlie,’ Claire look incredulous but she’s smiling at the same time. ‘Not after how long you spent slaving over it.’

Charlie pauses for a moment, touched, and manages a small grateful smile. ‘You’re off to bed then?’

‘Yeah,’ Claire pushes a strand of hair out of her face. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Good night then,’ Charlie waits until she’s settled down before picking up his guitar again. She’s never said so directly but he knows that Claire likes it when he plays as she goes to sleep.

‘My dad used to sing me to sleep when I was a little girl,’ she admitted one night, half asleep from the tangle of her blankets.

‘My mum did,’ Charlie answered without thinking. ‘Probably why I like music so much now.’ And without another word he had launched into a soft, acoustic version of You All, Everybody until Claire’s breathing had become deep and even.

Tonight he plays her a Beatles medley, trying to remember as many of their songs as he can. He finishes with his favourite of course, Strawberry Fields Forever, and Claire is smiling in her half sleep as he makes his own way to bed. She’s a fan of the Beatles as well and always smiles when she sees the tattoo on his arm.

‘I never liked that song as much,’ he remembers her telling him. ‘I was always into their earlier stuff where they weren’t completely tripped out on God knows what.’

Charlie can’t help but feel that it’s ironic that he always liked their later “trippier” music even when he was younger. Perhaps it was a foreshadowing of the things that were to come?

It becomes routine after a week or so. Every night she comes to him before she goes to sleep and he practices plaiting and slowly but surely he gets better at it. Claire’s hair grows longer and longer and Aaron learns to roll over and then sit up and then crawl and everything is going well until Claire disappears one night and when she comes back...

‘You cut your hair?’ he can’t help the incredulity in his voice as she sits nervously next to him. Her hand moves to rumple her dramatically shorter hair.

‘Yeah,’ she looks faintly embarrassed. ‘It was getting too long to manage. And Aaron kept grabbing hold of it and pulling it so…’

Charlie nods; trying not to get too upset at the sight of the Renee-Zellweger-as-Roxie-Hart bob that Claire is sporting – minus the copious amounts of setting gel of course. He liked her hair _long_ dammit. Why did women always do stuff like this without consulting other people first?

‘Hey,’ Claire looks mildly offended at the look he’s giving her. ‘It doesn’t look that bad does it?’

‘No, no,’ Charlie protests. ‘Its not that, it looks good Claire it really does.’ His voice isn’t convincing her however and Claire looks upset.

‘Yeah right,’ Charlie begins to panic as she makes a movement as if to rise.

‘I think you look beautiful however your hair is,’ he blurts and Claire’s face softens a little.

‘Really?’

‘Yes,’

Claire looks puzzled now rather than upset which greatly encourages Charlie. ‘Well then why did you look at me like that?’

‘Well, well I can’t very well plait it anymore can I?’ Charlie sighs dramatically. ‘It’s far too short.’

Claire gazes sympathetically at him and pats his hand, slightly bemused. ‘It’ll grow back Charlie.’

‘Yeah,’ he smiles somewhat sadly, turns his hand over and twines his fingers with hers without looking at them. ‘Yeah it will.’ His eyes go to hers and they look at each other for a long moment, conferring silently with their eyes. They’ve never really been this physically close for this long before; Claire has always had a sort of invisible barrier around her and Charlie rarely crossed it when Claire didn’t initiate the preliminary contact. Right now, her expression said differently however.

‘Do you...' she hesitates before continuing. 'Do you really think I’m beautiful?’

The question surprises him until he remembers his blurted compliment of several minutes before. ‘Yes,’

Claire can’t help but flush slightly then and her eyes drop as her usually fair cheeks turn a soft pink. Still not looking at him, Claire bites her smiling bottom lip for a moment before leaning forward to capture his mouth in a gentle, chaste kiss.

This catches Charlie off guard, he hadn’t been expecting this of all things but he kisses her back gently, one hand moving to touch the soft, short waves of her hair but just as he starts to enjoy himself Claire pulls away, her meaning plain _I’m not quite ready for all of that yet._ Her eyes are still down when she speaks.

‘Thank you,’ she stands to leave and Charlie wants so badly to pull her to him and kiss her again…

‘Good night Claire,’

And at last she looks at him properly and smiles shyly. ‘Good night Charlie.’

She’s almost out of earshot when he calls her name again as an afterthought.

‘Yes Charlie?’

‘I could try small ones I guess.’

Claire looks non-plussed at this. ‘Small ones?’

‘Small plaits,’ Charlie clarifies, his eyes twinkling. ‘In your hair.’

Claire grins and shakes her head as she heads to bed.


End file.
